The Cold Ashes Rise
by teddy305
Summary: Labeled as 1984 ff only because it's an original work in a similar dystopian environment. No other similarities to 1984 were intentional. It's a short story about a 18 year old girl Julia, who loses everything, even her soul, to a corporation that just wants things to keep going.


THE COLD ASHES RISE

"…our honored ancestors believed that energy cannot be created or destroyed. Unfortunately, they were wrong. Or luckily? Visit the factory in City Centre to find out more and volunteer! Become part of the Corporation with a…". The irritating voice abruptly stopped when I hit the radio with a pillow. The advertisements always said it was a great privilege to keep radio devices in dorm rooms, but really, it's just an obligation defined by law. I looked at the annoying tin box lying on the wooden floorboards and sighed. I felt tempted to take it and throw it into a smelting plant . At least there were many possibilities when it came to those.  
" What's the point in refusing to listen to an advertisement if I already know it by heart?" I muttered. Each and every morning the same, overeager voice repeated the ads : " The Corporation with a Heart! Become part of a global community! Volunteer! Everyone who applies for a position will be safe for life!". To some people the possibility of a job that promises an ideal future sounded tempting, but it only ever caused the hairs on my arms to stand up. I firmly believed that something was wrong with HeartCorp, as we called it, and I had vowed that I'd never volunteer. I could find a job elsewhere. It'd be tough and badly paid, but anything was better than working for an organization that already owned half the city. " You can't go anywhere without being stared at by those damn sappy heart drawings, smiling at you like they haven't got a care in the world. I suppose they don't, but I still have the right to be annoyed by them." I thought glumly.  
I don't know why it bothered me that much, seeing as I spent my entire life being told that I should feel the need to improve the industry.  
I was taught that I should admire those who abandoned everything for works' sake, that I should try to become like them. I was never able to admire my parents, who did that very thing. They were the perfect example of volunteers, leaving their old life behind, including me, all for a higher purpose. I wanted to respect them. I really did. But seventeen years hadn't been enough to forgive them. Whenever I thought of the Corporation, I knew there was something off. For an institution that was supposed to be a parent-figure to the children whose parents they'd taken, it was doing a very poor job.

The chair next to mine was empty. That's always a bad sign. Someone's gone, so they're either sick, dead or, worst of all, they've volunteered. I scanned the classroom and stared at the chair, usually occupied by my one and only friend. The door closed and class started. My heart had begun to beat frantically. "This isn't okay. This is bad. Very, very bad." I thought.  
My hand was in the air before I decided it consciously. "Ma'am, do you happen to know where Victoria is?". Bad move, but I _had to know_ what had happened to her, she was everything I had left. I should have known that it was bad to attract attention, but I couldn't help it. The professor stared at me icily. "Julia, could you at least _pretend _ to be interested in class? Miss Victoria's volunteering is admirable, even without pointing out her absence."  
I couldn't believe it. I remembered all the times Victoria and I complained about HeartCorp, mocked their advertisements, and vowed that we'd never join them as long as there was a choice. None of us would've done it, left the other completely alone, which only proved a theory we'd been turning over in our minds since we could remember.  
As soon as the bell rang, I fled the classroom and the old factory building that was now our school.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but it only caused a coughing fit as I inhaled ashes and smog. I watched the cold ashes rise under my feet.  
I made my decision. I had spent years watching people I knew and loved leave and never come back. I had always suspected that they couldn't be that cold, that they wouldn't simply leave, but that they had been taken. I had been right. Something was wrong. With my life, with the Corporation, with the world. And it was time to find out what, because I was alone at last. There was no more reason to hide, because there was no one I love left to protect.

I walked into the city, lightly, heading to the main building for the Corporation's volunteers. I quickly passed between the giant buildings, their rusty constructions towering over me, walking among the tall chimneys blowing out steam and dark ash. There was no reason for procrastinating and making things harder than they already were. Deep inside, I had always known that this day would come. I didn't feel much fear, just nostalgia. I had hoped that the happy times would last longer, but destiny had screwed me over plenty of times, taking away my parents, any friend I ever had, and finally, Victoria.  
I arrived at the door. There was a line in front of me." Volunteers. Naive fools that really bought the promises in the advertisements. It's really no wonder the industry flourishes when they don't even have to kidnap all their employees." I thought, looking at the posh man in front of me with disgust. I knew he had his reasons, but also that those reasons were money and luxury. The door creaked and pulled me out of my reverie. It's my turn.

I thought the pain would never stop. A childish thought, because I knew that it'd stop, at least when I died. I was right again. It's an easy conclusion to reach now, but in the moments when I was feeling my skin peel and flesh burn as a huge rusty machine was cracking my rib cage open like it was a walnut, it was a little hard to think rationally.  
The only things I hear through this void is a far away muttering and the repeating of advertisements. "Energy cannot be created and cannot be destroyed. That is a lie.". The Corporation had found a way to create it, when the world was at the brink of death. They never needed a workforce, they needed spare parts. Spare hearts. Our whole lives we were brought up like cattle for slaughter, so our deaths could keep this world running for a little longer. And I'm keeping it alive now, too. This world which I _know _is wrong. I'm preserving it. Something's wrong with it. It's rotten and dying. But still fighting. Always fighting. Maybe... maybe that isn't so wrong. Maybe this is a better afterlife than anything else I could have hoped for, because _I _still exist. All of us still exist, as a piece of something so much more than the mere sum of our parts. Because we always were more than just of pile of components, so why not now?  
I think that's exactly why we can create. I wouldn't have understood this on my own, but I'm never on my own here. I've found Victoria. I think I'll look for my parents, too. It's nice here. Peaceful. There's just the familiar sound of the cheerful voice telling us the truth. " HeartCorp. Be a part of a global community…".  
I no longer hate the Corporation. I see how this was necessary so the world could at least have a chance to improve, to heal itself. My heart and very essence are giving it that opportunity.  
I don't hate the Corporation. I understand it.  
I'm part of its heart.


End file.
